All Chapters of HIS CURVY OBSESSION : ABDSM CONTRACT : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I look at my left and sure, on the floor, in a black tray is a red collar.With the lump still seated in my throat, I pick it up and latch it around my neck.“Tighter.”Banks’s voice moves through my chest, my nipples, and straight down to my cunt . I without room for refusal obey.Tightening the leather until it hooks against my skin. My vision blurs slightly at the edges. I ease it back one notch.“Fix the chain to it.”I spot a bowl on the tray, placed face down. I lift it. Beneath it: a silver chain. And beside the chain — a nipple clamp, something I have come to recognise as a clitoris clamp, and cuffs.My entire body hums with a current that makes me both ache and embarrassingly wet.I pick up the chain. It rattles loudly. I find the hook and attach it to my leather cuff, jolting at the cold contact, but fastening it firmly.“Clamps.”I am not sure this is what he has planned, but this entire situation have me completely worried for my self. My body feels itchy and my cunt has b

ELEANORBanks is a bastard.My master, my Dom, is ranking number one among bastards, sitting comfortably beside Lucifer on the throne.I am angry. Unheard. Wronged. Horny. But one emotion sits above everything else right now.Shame.I want to rip this blindfold off and glare at whoever might be looking at me bound, exposed, and completely degraded. I want to flip them off. Banks included. But I can’t, because the bastard has taken full ownership of my senses and every useful limb I own.I am royally done, and somehow impossibly horny.I have been out here for approximately forty minutes, plus or minus ten minutes , and I am so wet that I am genuinely concerned I have formed a small pool on this glass table.Banks didn’t just suck my chest like a starving man. He filled my ass and my pussy with his toys, left the cold air to handle the rest, and walked away.I'm Naked, butt plug in my ass, vibrator in my pussy. Clamps on my nipples. Cold glass beneath me, blindfolded, chained and out o

I don’t know who got punished tonight. Eleanor or me.I am hard. Blue balls uncomfortably, relentlessly hard. Heavy sacs, heart aching, pre-cum at the tip hard.Why didn’t I just take her?That question followed me all the way to my office and sat across from me while I stared at a report I've been unable to assimilate for forty minutes. I know the answer.She doesn’t deserve to come..... while she’s conscious.That is the rule I set. The punishment has terms and I keep the terms I set because the moment I stop keeping them, she starts breaking them and I don't rule on broken bones.And now, she is in my bed.That's a variant and possibility I didnt see coming. But i decided she deserved it the moment her cheeks touched my chest... Or was it when the blindfold came off?There was something about the way she looked at me Broken, needy, Pleading.Fuck!It was the way she smelt. Like a gallon of desires and want. I just wanted her closeAfter care was to be decided on being non expectan

ELEANOR POVI feel Banks’s hot mouth on my breast before I am fully conscious.My brain insists it is a dream. My body knows better, there is a track record now, a pattern I have filed away, and this is not a dream.He rolls his tongue around my nipple and I moan, low and involuntary.My eyes flutter open. He looks up at me from where he is, one hand full of my breast, his teeth grazing the nipple with a precision that suggests he knows exactly what he is doing and has been doing it for some time.“Mast..." I grunt, blinking into full wakefulness.The moment I come completely awake, he stops.Stands up. Runs his fingers through his hair once. Steps out of the room without a word or a backward look.I lie there in the cold air his mouth left behind and file that information carefully in the front of my mind.He likes to fuck me while I am asleep.Which should be difficult, since I sleep light."That is clearly wrong information" my brain offers unhelpfully, as I check the time.Six am

Two p.m It has been thirty minutes sinc I woke up. The morning light filters softly through the frosted glass of my bathroom window, cutting through the lingering dampness of the room. I spend a long time unpacking the bags that bred my punishment. I place each item down with an intentional, almost ritualistic precision. I lay everything out on my marble bathroom counter—the amber bottle of the prescription, the sleek glass vial of the serum, the foaming cleanser, the SPF that Dr. Reeves had called non-negotiable, the targeted spot treatment, and the cool, alcohol-free toner. I step back, leaning against the doorframe, and look at it all arranged on my counter in a neat, perfect row. The lining of the bottles on the table strikes something deep inside me that's unfamiliar but I recognize. Taken care of. The words settles in my head with precision. I am not being managed like an inconvenience. I am not being handled like a problem that needs to be filed away or a liability